


night and day

by celestexists



Category: Shenanigans (Original Universe)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College AU, Alternate Universe - Eggplant Era, Breakfast, Character Study, Cuddling, Established Relationship, F/F, Kissing, Photography, bed sharing, just kissing, not just photography, redefining erogenous zones, watch the author describe all the white furniture as anything BUT white
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-09-30 15:34:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20449436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestexists/pseuds/celestexists
Summary: “I love the way you touch me,” Jane murmured.“How do I touch you?” Caroline asked in the same quiet tone.“Like you know me,” Jane answered in a low voice, and the words sounded like a confession.





	night and day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mayerwien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayerwien/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Introducing: Shenanigans](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11757003) by [Aja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aja/pseuds/Aja), [earlgreytea68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/pseuds/earlgreytea68). 

> Or, what happened when Caroline and Jane went home after the get-together in Deep Ellum in the [“give me your heart” prologue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19472350/chapters/46350826). Also works as a standalone.
> 
> This gift work is in completion of the [Fandom for Siken charity auction](https://fandomforsiken.tumblr.com) I participated in earlier this year. Thank you to May, Meg, and Ewa for making this happen, you guys are incredible!
> 
> Happy Sikenfest, b! <3 Thank you for giving me the opportunity to write carojane's story.

** _night_ **

Jane was quiet as they walked down Aliston St. towards the station. The cigarette she started smoking while Elliot had launched into his summer shenanigans was still clamped in between her lips, the embers burning brightly in the dark. Occasionally, she took the stick between two fingers and exhaled, the smoke wafting gently and trailing after them as they walked.

Caroline broke the silence while they were in the T. Jane’s face was a blank canvas, smooth and waiting to be colored into life. But she was drumming her fingers restlessly on the pole, and she hadn’t even bothered to stare down into submission the loud drunk college boys a few feet away.

“He’s going to be fine,” Caroline said, as a start.

There was a faint flicker in Jane’s face, a flash in her eyes, before her expression went back to being placid. Her fingers gently stopped drumming, until her hand was lying still on the pole. If Caroline didn’t know her so well, it almost looked like Jane had stopped the nervous tell naturally. 

But Caroline did know her, and more, she was always fascinated by the minute changes in Jane’s expression and body language. And she had the starting realization that in a few years, when Jane was older and wiser, Jane would most likely have complete mastery and control over her reactions.

Whenever someone new learned that Jane and Elliot were best friends, they’d always do a double-take and say, wait she’s friends with _ Elliot_? Even now, some of their batchmates in Emerson were still a bit disbelieving that someone as level-headed and cool as Jane can be friends with someone like Elliot.

Caroline always just laughed it off when someone made a comment in that vein. There was nothing else to do but laugh. It just showed how much they didn’t know who Jane really was. 

“I know,” Jane finally responded. “I’m just worried it will be at the expense of his roommates.”

There was another flicker in Jane's expression when Caroline slid her hand down the pole and covered Jane’s. But Jane didn’t pull away or say anything in protest.

“The only ones as good as you with handling Elliot are Nicholas and Jonah,” assured Caroline. “They’ll be fine.”

Jane hummed. And when Caroline rubbed her thumb against Jane’s knuckles, the corner of her lips tipped up.

Majority of the tenants in Jane’s red-brick apartment building were also college or graduate students, so it wasn’t a surprise that they kept encountering a few stragglers here and there as they climbed the stairs.

After Caroline waved hello to Keenan and asked after Priyanka’s finals, Jane made a small sound of amusement. “Do you know, sometimes the first thing my neighbors ask me when they see me is how you are,” Jane drawled. “I think they’re actually disappointed you don’t live in the building.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m here most of the time anyway,” Caroline said cheerfully. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint the neighbors.”

Jane gave her a look of fond exasperation before entering the apartment.

Jane set her keys in the designated tea bowl on the tall bone-colored double sided bookcase before going into her closet to start her nightly routine. The bookcase served as a divider for the bedroom from the rest of the apartment, as well as storage for Jane’s collection of glass art from flea markets, well-loved graphic novels, favorite textbooks, and YA novels that Caroline had either left behind or forgotten to shelf back in her dorm. 

Past the kitchen and the counter top table, Caroline could see the orange light of the lamp post from the windows shining over the macaroon cream mid-century couch. Across the room, past the black glossy coffee table, there was an easel beside a small side table covered with brushes and paints, alongside a canvas propped up on the walls. 

Caroline was in the middle of painting one of her side projects, but she was almost done. The concept was a little hard to explain, even though she had already sketched the painting’s entirety on her pad. But Caroline was pretty sure it was an exploration of dualism within the self and the other.

There were newspapers carefully placed underneath the easel and the side table to protect the charcoal wool rug from paint splatters. Caroline also liked to lie down on the floor whenever she needed a break from working to just stare at the ceiling, so she wasn’t surprised when, a few days after she had officially commandeered the art nook, a rug had magically appeared in her art nook right by the window, exactly where she liked to sprawl herself. 

In Jane’s carefully curated and monochromatic apartment, Caroline’s painting paraphernalia were like ferociously loud intruders, bursts of colors that shouted in the muted room. 

Caroline knew how much this meant; if it were anyone else, Jane would have at best politely told them to take their things or at worst thrown everything out a long time ago. And while Caroline was shamelessly pleased by her presence in Jane’s home, she was also conscious of the great privilege that had been granted to her. So she was doing her best to finish her WIP as quickly as possible. 

Caroline remembered the first time she started painting and drawing and practicing her calligraphy in Jane’s apartment, specifically in this very nook. She didn’t remember the exact circumstances of _ why _she was doing most of her projects in Jane’s apartment. But at the time, Jane still had a small television set by the wall, so Caroline had to squeeze herself by the corner near the window. 

When Jane had amusedly commented that they could move furniture around — like the couch and/or the coffee table — Caroline had laughingly mentioned that no, they could not, the light was perfect in this exact spot, and so there she stayed. Jane just shook her head and laughed before going inside her bedroom to work at her desk. 

The next time Caroline had visited, she was surprised to find that the television set was gone, with only a slate matte side table left close by the wall. When Caroline had asked about it, Jane had shrugged negligently and said she didn’t use the TV anyway.

Caroline grabbed clothes from the closet then turned to the bathroom and leaned against the door, watching Jane brushed her teeth in precise and exact movements. In the time Caroline had been reminiscing, Jane had finished showering and changed into an ivory camisole and black shorts, her hair wrapped tightly in a towel. Her face was as calm and smooth as ever, but it was bare of makeup now, and it made Jane look younger and older at the same time. 

Jane raised an eyebrow when she noticed Caroline staring at her in the mirror. After she finished brushing her teeth, she said, “You can take a picture, you know. It’ll last longer.”

Caroline knew Jane was joking, in that dry humor way of hers, but she couldn’t help but ask in a more serious tone, “Can I though?”

Jane paused from applying her moisturizer for a moment, before going back to carefully putting the cream on her face. “Yeah,” she said. “As long as it doesn’t involve an elaborate setup.”

That was very promising. But maybe Caroline had to save the cigarette-smoking shoot for another day, then, just to be safe. 

Caroline squeezed herself inside the bathroom, hip checking Jane in the process and earning an exasperated look from her. Just as Caroline was closing the shower curtain, Jane reminded her, “Don’t leave your towel on the floor.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Caroline said and turned on the shower.

After Caroline changed into her loungewear, she walked past the double sided bookcase and into Jane’s bedroom. Jane was sitting down at her desk, making notes on her Erin Condren Life Planner with her Muji pens. She hadn’t even bothered switching on the lights, relying on the bright beam of her study lamp.

Everything was softer and warmer in Jane’s bedroom, but that wasn’t really saying much, considering it was Jane. The deep pile bisque rug separated Jane’s desk from the full-sized bed, which was faintly lit up with the small fairy lights Caroline had placed over the rustic wood headboard. The chunky pale olive knit afghan with the matching throw pillows helped to offset the plain sheets and covers.

Caroline waited for Jane in bed and settled back into the left side, near the window, and took _ This One Summer _ from where she’d set it on the side table. They were both quiet for a time; the steady hum of the apartment was an accompaniment to the crisp turn of the page from Caroline’s book and the scritches of Jane’s pen against paper. 

At times, Caroline would catch herself staring at the slender slope of Jane’s shoulders, the muscles in her upper back sinuous and luscious against the moonlight streaming in from the window. The way Jane’s silky black hair moved over her shoulders as she turned her head. But Caroline always found her way back to her graphic novel eventually, after much deserved appreciation of Jane.

She normally hated lulls in conversation, and in their friend group, that was never a problem since everyone always had something to say. But with Jane, Caroline can appreciate a quiet moment. It was something she had to get used to at first, especially when the two of them started hanging out separately from the group last year. 

It got to the point where Jane had told her, one afternoon while Caroline rambled on about her art class, “You don’t have to turn on the charm with me, you know.”

Caroline had stopped. “It’s not awkward?” she had asked, feeling awkward. “The silence, I mean?”

Jane had smiled. “Not for me,” Jane had said. “I love listening to you, Caro. But I don’t want you to feel like you need to entertain me with conversation.”

“Oh,” Caroline had said while shamelessly staring at Jane. “I just don’t want to miss out. On us catching up and knowing how we’re both doing.”

Jane’s mysterious smile widened. “You can learn a lot from wordless moments too. You should know this, you’re an artist.”

And she was right, Caroline thought, staring at Jane again. There _ was _a lot you can learn about another person in the silence of a moment.

When Jane switched off her study lamp, cloaking the room in darkness, Caroline set her book down and turned to her left to face Jane as she climbed into bed and pulled the blanket over them. When Jane turned to the right to face her, which was their unofficial signal for _ I would like to cuddle and touch,_ Caroline put her arm around Jane’s waist, her legs gently bumping against Jane’s.

Caroline pressed her lips to Jane’s forehead and took a quiet inhale. Caroline closed her eyes and breathed in the soft scent of Jane’s skin, the smoke that still lingered in her hair, the sweet tartness of her shampoo.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you sniffing me, Caro,” Jane said in amusement, her arm draped over Caroline’s waist.

Caroline pulled back a bit, just enough so that she can see Jane’s face outlined by the light outside. “I love how you smell,” Caroline admitted shamelessly, her fingers playing with the hem of Jane’s cami.

Jane rolled her eyes, and Caroline watched the faint blush rise on her fair skin. “I thought you wanted to take a picture?”

Caroline made a sound of indignation. “Jane,” she said with emphasis. “When I take photos of you, it will be in the glorious baring light of the sun.” Then she paused and added, “Unless that’s not something you’re comfortable with, of course.”

Jane studied her. Then Caroline is startled when Jane’s other hand came up and curled over the arch of her neck, her palm warm against Caroline’s collarbone. 

“It’s fine,” Jane finally said, her thumb brushing back and forth hypnotically over Caroline’s skin.

It was the barest glance of a touch. But Caroline could feel her heart start to beat unevenly, heavily. 

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” Caroline said, and it was only a variation of what she just said. But it could stand to be repeated.

Jane’s thumb stopped moving, resting lightly over the thudding pulse point on her neck.“I know,” Jane said gently. “And I’ll tell you if I _ do _feel uncomfortable. Don’t I always?”

Caroline remembered the day they talked about their relationship, and where it could possibly go. They were sitting down on Jane’s couch while having tea and coffee. When Caroline had asked, as calmly as she could even while her heart beat out of her chest, if Jane would be open to them dating, Jane had looked at Caroline intently before setting down her tea cup carefully.

“Are you sure?” Jane had asked in a low voice.

“What do you mean?” Caroline asked, putting down her own coffee mug.

“Are you sure you want to be with me.” Jane’s voice had gone flat and a matter-of-fact.

Caroline mirrored Jane’s pose, crossing her legs and placing her arm over the couch until her fingers almost touched Jane’s. “I’m sure, Jane,” Caroline had answered softly.

Jane’s fingertips twitched, tapping restlessly on the holster. “There are days I can’t stand to be touched,” she had continued in the same flat tone, her eyes boring a hole into the coffee table. “And there are days I want nothing but. But then there are days I don’t want it to go anywhere. Just touch for the sake of touch.”

Caroline let the silence sink in, because she knew how hard it was for Jane to say that. “As long as you tell me what kind of day it is everyday,” Caroline said.

Jane had looked at Caroline, her eyes lit with a peculiar light. And that was when Caroline realized that she had never seen Jane, who always affected boredom and disinterest with everything, so fervently passionate about something. 

Now, Caroline placed her fingers gently over where Jane was resting her hand on Caroline’s neck. “You do,” Caroline allowed, smiling. “May I kiss you?”

Jane tipped her head up towards Caroline, a smile tucked in the corner of her mouth. “You may,” she replied solemnly, matching Caroline’s tone. 

She closed the small distance between them, their elbows and knees jutting against each other as they adjusted to a comfortable position, the sheets tangled around their limbs. Once they were settled, their sharp points tucked safely against each other, Caroline curved her hand against Jane’s cheek, watching Jane’s eyes go half-mast. Jane still had her arm draped over Caroline’s waist, her other hand still curled over Caroline’s neck. So Caroline stroked her thumb against Jane’s cheek, in the same rhythm Jane caressed her pulse point, and waited until the last of Jane’s tension was leached away from her eyes, her lips, her shoulders. 

Caroline leaned in, acutely aware that Jane was still looking at her, and pressed a kiss to the corner of Jane’s mouth, the starting point of all Jane’s smiles. She felt Jane’s mouth part open, the swell of her bottom lip touching wetly against Caroline’s. When Jane moved her head to catch Caroline’s lips, Caroline switched and kissed the tip of Jane’s nose. 

She opened her eyes when Jane let out a breathless laugh. “You are the worst,” Jane informed her.

Caroline grinned and pressed a kiss to the other corner of Jane’s mouth, so it didn't feel neglected. “Why, thank you.”

She was still smiling when Jane suddenly moved even closer, sliding her leg in between Caroline’s thighs and holding Caroline’s head in place with the hand she had on Caroline’s neck, her fingers clawing into skin. 

“Oh,” Caroline said breathlessly as she looked up at Jane, who seemed taller and bigger now, her presence entirely overwhelming in the darkness. “Who’s the worst now?”

Jane just smiled that beatific smile of hers. And in that moment, she looked like a goddess, a painting, a photograph, the way the shadows made all her edges sharper—from the cut of her cheekbones to the line of her collarbone and the point of her elbows; the way the moonlight made her skin glow; the way she smiled like she knew the secrets of the universe.

Caroline lifted a hand to cradle Jane's cheek, thumbing the delicate skin and just luxuriating in the closeness and warmth.

But Jane wasn’t a goddess, a painting, or a photograph. She was better than all those things because she was _ real._

Jane’s smile widened, as if hearing Caroline’s thoughts. Then she shifted. 

Jane kissed the way she approached everything in life: in a series of calculated and controlled moves designed to cause major impact. Jane tilted her head and brushed her lips gently across Caroline’s, the motion soft as their breaths. And then Jane raised her arm from Caroline’s waist to place a proprietary hand on the bare skin of Caroline’s lower back. Jane kept brushing their lips together in a sensual cadence, to a rhythm that only she could hear. When Caroline shivered, Jane took that as a cue to deepen the kiss, her tongue sliding into the seam of Caroline's mouth, her teeth nipping at Caroline’s lips. 

Everything was made worse—or better, depending on how Caroline looked at it—by how Jane had her eyes open the entire time. She took Caroline apart with her gaze, her kiss, her touch. So Caroline looked back and unraveled.

Then Jane let her take a break and a breath, all the while nuzzling Caroline’s cheek. “Touch me,” Jane whispered, mouthing the words against Caroline’s skin.

Caroline answered with a hot, lingering kiss to Jane’s jawline, barely restraining herself from licking the soft skin. Then she slipped her hands under Jane’s top, spanning her fingers over Jane’s waist and navel, skin so warm and smooth it was better than satin and velvet combined. Caroline swallowed when Jane shuddered and dug her nails deeper into Caroline’s skin.

“I love the way you touch me,” Jane murmured, her lips closing over the skin just under Caroline’s earlobe.

“How do I touch you?” Caroline asked in the same quiet tone, peering through her lashes. She moved her hands over Jane’s skin in long luxuriating strokes, from ribs to hips.

Jane’s eyes were still half-mast, her beatific smile more parted lips and less mystery. “Like you know me,” Jane answered in a low voice, and the words sounded like a confession.

Caroline paused and looked at Jane. Then she slowly drew her hand up from Jane’s navel to her sternum, spreading her fingers apart over delicate skin and strong bones. 

“Because you let me in,” Caroline said, watching Jane’s eyelids finally flutter close, her cheeks flushed a deep red.

“Caro,” Jane said hoarsely, before pulling Caroline close and kissing her without any of the artful precision from earlier. And Caroline allowed herself be subsumed in this moment, under Jane’s lips and tongue, her clawing hands and winding legs.

Caroline didn’t know how much time passed, but by the time they pulled apart, Jane was mussed and flushed. Her silky hair was in disarray from Caroline’s fingers, her eyes were bright and even the bridge of her nose was red, her lips swollen and wet. There was a darkening mark blooming just under her jaw.

Caroline petted the line of Jane’s torso soothingly, over her cami this time, and watched Jane draw herself back in again. Jane’s expression smoothed into calmness, her eyes darkening to opaqueness, her breath becoming even, and her skin slowly reclaiming the warm flush on her face. 

It was a wonder to see Jane in all her phases of vulnerability and untouchability. Caroline kissed Jane on the forehead, before enfolding Jane in her arms. Caroline smiled when soft hands curled around the small of her back, so different from the sharp nails before.

Then Caroline realized something. “Did you give me a French kiss because we played ‘La Vie En Rose’ in Deep Ellum?” she asked delightedly.

Jane’s soft laughter was muffled against Caroline’s skin. “Good night, Caro. Sweet dreams.” 

Later in the night, they would pull apart; Jane would curl to her side while Caroline would sprawl across the middle of the bed. But for now, Caroline pressed a smile on top of Jane’s head and let herself be lulled to sleep with Jane in her arms, the moonlight a soft glow in the dark room.

** _day_ **

Jane didn’t have much of a view in her living room, just stores and buildings lined down the block. But she enjoyed the way the sunlight streamed through the window. It was one of the perks of being a morning person, seeing how the sun touched everything into wakefulness. And the first thing the sun bathed in light was Jane’s gallery wall just above her couch in the living room. 

Jane thumbed her cup of tea, staring at the black and white photos from where she sat on the bar stool. She wasn’t an artist or a photographer, but she loved how there was movement and emotion in every frame. She loved the melancholy solitude in the winter shot of pedestrians hunched in dark coats as they walked along the snow and left footprints behind; the texture of the brick buildings and the cobble stoned street at Oyster House; the symmetry in the sweeping arches of the Public Library while people milled around the shelves or bent over the desks. 

At the center of the gallery was a portrait of two women in their mid-60s; they were both wearing dresses, but the one with white hair had on an impeccably fitted casual daywear, while her dark-haired partner had a flowing maxi with polka dots. They were sitting on a bench in Public Garden, smiling at each other and holding hands.

She loved all of Caroline’s photos on the wall, but that was her favorite. 

“Oh my god, is that Cafe Luna?” Caroline said around a yawn, as she shuffled out of the bedroom. She was staring ravenously at the spread on the counter.

“Had it delivered,” Jane confirmed.

Caroline ambled closer and settled into the bar stool beside her. “Did you get me—"

“Chocolate stuffed Belgian waffles with strawberries,” Jane recited, sipping her tea. “Yes.”

Caroline beamed at her. “You are a goddess,” she declared. “Would you be kind enough to share your plate of eggs Benedict with this humble mortal?”

“Only if you share your waffles.”

“Deal,” Caroline said, reaching over the spice rack on the other end to get the homemade spiced honey that Jane’s mom always sent in her monthly care packages. 

“And as long as my share of the waffle is untainted by your needless syrup,” Jane added.

Caroline paused from slathering her Belgian waffles with the honey. “Really? But this stuff is amazing,” Caroline said disbelievingly.

“Not with _ chocolate stuffed waffles and strawberries_.”

“Pish posh,” Caroline said primly, even though she was leaving a generous portion of her brunch untouched by the honey. “You’ve been eating too much arugula jam.”

“It’s roasted fig jam, thank you,” Jane said amusedly. “And it goes very well with my prosciutto eggs Benedict.”

“Well, I won’t know until I taste it, will I?”

Jane could take a hint; she sliced through the egg and hollandaise, making sure to get some of the English muffin, the fig jam, and the arugula. Caroline’s delighted smile widened when Jane held the fork up to her.

Caroline leaned forward and ate the eggs from Jane’s fork. “It’s delicious,” Caroline confirmed around her mouthful.

“Have I ever steered you wrong before?” Jane took the designated slice of waffle from Caroline’s plate and transferred it to hers. 

Caroline paused from drinking her coffee, staring at Jane from the rim of her mug. “No, never,” she answered, her voice softening. 

Jane smiled, before turning back to her food. She bit through the crisp waffles and into the semi-sweet and creamy chocolate and the tart strawberry slices. It was a good dessert after the savory omelette she just had. After Jane finished eating, she let herself look at Caroline. 

Elliot had praised Jane’s apartment design and aesthetic when he had first visited. And he still commented on certain things, like the gallery wall or the bookcase or the couch, from time to time whenever he came over.

It’s true that Jane loved achromaticity for its duality of stark minimalism and incredible depth in shades and textures. But one thing Jane never told anyone was how she loved the way the sun just bounced off the walls, the floors, the furniture, and soaked everything in light and life. It was one of the things she never knew how to articulate without sounding overly sentimental until Caroline first saw her apartment. 

Caroline had taken one look at everything before she had turned to Jane and casually said, “Did you know white objects reflect back all the visible wavelengths of the light that shine on them? They don’t absorb colors or light like other colors, they just give everything back.”

And Jane thought of how the person in front of her glowed with so much light and brightness, that maybe Caroline was reflecting her own invisible wavelengths. Jane had never been drawn to a person’s physical appearance before. But she was mesmerized by the golden strands slipping from Caroline’s top bun and how it shone in the sun soaked room; the way Caroline’s lounge top kept slipping to reveal the smooth bronze of her shoulder; the little sounds of pleasure Caroline made with every other bite. 

Jane took another sip of her tea, and made herself look at something else before Caroline saw her staring. And inevitably, the next thing that caught her attention was the art nook just behind Caroline’s shoulder.

The rectangular canvas was only 12 by 16 inches. Jane knew this because she checked, just to confirm that her mind was playing tricks on her regarding how big the painting actually was. 

From the top right corner of the canvas, Xihe was descending down into a galaxy painted in colors of blue, purple, and pink with speckles of stars in the background. She was wearing a _ hanfu _ painted in fiery shades of yellow and red, and it was cinched high on her waist with black crow feathers. Her _fengguan _ was embellished with suns and dangling golden stars that glowed against her unbound black hair. She had a small smirk on her face, her eyes dark and mysterious. It made her look wild and almost fey, especially since her hair fell to her bare feet, where a murder of crows flew to keep her aloft while she reached for the moon goddess. 

The lower left half from where Selene was standing was still unfinished, but Jane could see the silver crescent moon crown atop Selene’s pinned up titanium white hair. Where Xihe was angular and androgynous, Selene was soft and sensuous, wearing a fitted silver armor that contrasted against the honey of her skin.

She was beaming up at Xihe, like she was soaking in all of the sun goddess’ light, her arms open and ready to catch Xihe once she reached the ground.

The painting was overwhelmingly and so completely _ Caroline_. Jane knew it wasn’t for any of Caroline’s art classes, so she was already planning to ask if she could buy it once it was finished. It’d be the perfect thing, the only thing, to hang over Caroline’s art nook.

“I’m almost done.”

Jane looked away from the painting to see Caroline watching her with a small smile, her cheek propped on her fist. 

“I’ll make sure to clean things up when I finish,” Caroline continued.

Jane shook her head. “It’s no problem, Caro. Take all the time you need.”

Caroline bit her lip. “Okay,” She said slowly. “Thank you. But are you sure?”

Jane thought of how Caroline always had her earbuds on while she painted, humming along to the songs in an off-key tune. Jane thought of the times Caroline would suddenly sigh and mumble to herself, before dramatically lying down on the rug. It used to make Jane wince whenever Caroline did that on the tiled floor. Jane thought of the moments when Caroline would suddenly call for her from the bedroom, her face smudged with blue or pink or purple paints, and ask for Jane’s opinion about whatever she was working on. Caroline would always get the biggest smile on her face whenever Jane said something that was stupidly simple but true, like “it’s beautiful” and “it’s colorful” and “it looks good.”

So Jane replied with something equally simple yet true: “I love it when you work here.”

Caroline answered back with that smile, the one that lit up the entire room whenever she brought it out.

“Speaking of me working here,” Caroline said, faux casually, and Jane had to hide her smile behind her cup. “I was thinking maybe we can do that little photo shoot after breakfast? While the light is still soft.”

“Of course,” Jane replied smoothly and turned to face Caroline. “Is what I’m wearing okay?”

Caroline’s gaze goes clinical, similar to the way she stared at her canvas or sketch pad when she was working on something, before her eyes widened and went molten as she finally registered Jane’s over-sized white dress shirt and bare legs. 

“Is that,” Caroline said thickly, before she valiantly continued. “Are you wearing anything underneath?”

Jane smiled. “That’s for you to find out.”

The silence was deliciously fraught and electric as they cleared away the table and washed the dishes. There was a considerable distance between them as they moved around Jane’s small kitchen, their fingers not touching when Caroline passed a plated or a utensil to Jane.

When they finished, they both looked at each other for a moment. Then Caroline cleared her throat and said, “Bedroom?”

Jane gestured for Caroline to go first. Jane didn’t comment when Caroline carried one of the bar stools with her.

She was slightly surprised to see that the sheets were still rumpled and the pillows strewn across the mattress, since Caroline usually made the bed (since she was usually the last one up) in deference to Jane. 

“I need it that way for the shoot,” Caroline said, without looking at Jane as she placed the bar stool beside the bed. “I’ll make the bed later.”

“Okay,” Jane said bemusedly. “Where do you want me?”

“The bar stool. Facing the window, please,” Caroline said absently, fiddling with her DSLR camera this time.

Jane sat down on the stool and watched Caroline set up. Caroline’s expression was serious and distant, like she was already planning the shots she wanted to take in her head. And even though this was familiar to Jane, in the sense that she had seen Caroline during her creative process many times, she felt a moment of apprehension. 

Caroline stood in front of her and raised her camera. “Test shot,” she murmured, before clicking without preamble. Caroline made soft thoughtful noises as she studied the LCD. 

Then Caroline looked at her, her eyes finally focusing on Jane. “Ready, Jane?” When Jane nodded, Caroline continued, “I’ll be giving you directions on how I want you to pose, but sometimes I might have to touch you and direct you with my hands, if we don’t get it right. Is that all right?”

Always sweet and thoughtful, Caroline was. A rush of warmth and affection flooded Jane. “Yes.”

Caroline’s gaze went inward again. “Hold that expression please,” she said, crouching down on the ground and positioning her camera. “Whatever you’re thinking, keep thinking about it.”

That was easy, Jane thought with amusement. All she had to do was look at Caroline.

“Can you unbutton the first four buttons? Slowly, please,” Caroline added, looking through the viewfinder. “Yes, good. Relax your shoulders. Tilt your head to the left.”

Her dress shirt only had seven buttons, so it would gape obscenely at the middle if Jane slouched a certain way. Not that she cared, really. Mostly she was concerned that it would get in the way of Caroline’s shoot. Besides, she had never been conscious of her body in that way. 

For a brief period in time, back in high school, when all her friends had been obsessed with the size of their breasts, the sprouting of hair in inconvenient places, the way their bodies curved, Jane had been worried with her complete lack of interest in such things. She thought that maybe she _ was _a late bloomer, a label she’d always heard from her mother, whenever her parents talked to their friends about how Jane didn’t have a boyfriend, didn’t have an interest in “feminine pursuits.” But then time went on, and nothing changed—in the way Jane felt or in the way her angular body stayed angular—Jane just found it easier not to care. 

And Jane still didn’t care. But she was very much interested in the way Caroline looked at her.

“Can you move your legs apart? Just a bit, yes, that,” Caroline said, clicking on her camera. “Place your forearms between your thighs and curl your hands into a loose fist, really relaxed like—good.”

Jane wondered if Caroline noticed the goosebumps rising on her skin. She wanted to believe she wasn’t blushing, but with how fair her skin was, that was probably a lost cause. So instead of looking at the way Caroline looked at her, Jane watched the way the sun shone like a halo over Caroline’s head, the pensive frown on her face as she studied the photos on the LCD, the expert way she pressed the buttons and adjusted the exposure and shutter speed, the way her top had completely slid off one shoulder now.

Jane almost jumped in her chair when Caroline moved forward, slinging the camera over her bare shoulder. Then Caroline leaned closer, so close that Jane’s nose brushed against her collarbone.

“Turn to the side please,” Caroline said softly, touching her lightly on the shoulder. Jane curled her fingers tightly into her fists at the scent of strawberries and clean sweat she smelled when Caroline pressed close and started folding the shirt sleeves up to Jane’s elbows. “Then I want you to touch the lower half of your shirt, like you’re about to unbutton the last few buttons.”

Jane looked up, her forehead bumping against Caroline’s jaw. “I can unbutton them for real, if you want.”

Caroline froze. Jane held her breath. 

“Only if you want,” Caroline said solemnly, her eyes losing that artist’s gaze, until it’s only Jane’s Caroline looking back at her.

“I want.”

Caroline swallowed. “Okay,” she said, walking back, her fingers trailing away from Jane’s shoulder. “Tilt your head down. Then open the last two, but leave the one in the middle buttoned.”

Jane listened to the high beep of the focus before the click of the shutter button. Since she was looking down, she got a reprieve from trying not to squint against the sunlight from the window. But the light was higher and brighter now, and Jane could hear more people and cars chattering and zooming past the street down her building.

They were both silent when Jane finished unbuttoning. The sound of the camera had stopped, but Jane fixed her gaze on the fine hair rising on her thighs. She waited.

“Do you know how beautiful you look?”

Jane tilted her head to the side, strands of her hair brushing over her jaw and lips. And she bit back a smile when Caroline clicked the shutter button helplessly, like she couldn’t resist.

“I know how beautiful you think I look,” Jane answered and stepped down the stool.

“When I show you these photos you’ll realize that I’ve been stating an objective fact all along, and not just an opinion like you think,” Caroline said.

“Objective and fact are the same thing,” Jane said, gazing at Caroline. She had a familiar yet unfamiliar expression on her face. 

Then Jane realized it was a combination of how Caroline usually looked at her, with all the warmth and fondness she reserved for Jane, and how Caroline had been studying her during the shoot, with an artist’s clinical and appreciative eye.

So Jane sat down by the edge of the bed and arched her back. 

“What are you doing?” Caroline asked hoarsely.

Jane stretched her left arm behind her head, her fingers loosely curled in her hair, while she placed her right hand over her gaping shirt by her breastbone. “Aren’t you going to take my photo, Caro?” She asked, tipping her head to the side.

Caroline burst into movement, walking closer to Jane and taking photos from multiple angles. 

Then Caroline lowered her camera. “May I touch you?” She asked quietly.

Jane looked into Caroline’s eyes and lowered her arms. “You may.”

She knee-walked forward until she was between Jane’s thighs. Jane stared at Caroline’s bent head and resisted the urge to touch her hair. She could feel the warm puff of Caroline’s breath over her skin.

Caroline adjusted the opening of her shirt, knuckles skimming across Jane’s navel. Caroline paused when a small gasp escaped her. When Jane kept quiet and held her breath, Caroline continued and smoothed the hem down over her underwear and thighs. Then Caroline paused over the last button holding her dress shirt together.

“Unbutton it.” The words came unbidden from Jane’s mouth.

Caroline unbuttoned it.

They were both quiet as Caroline arranged the front placket to show the line of bare skin where Jane’s shirt opened. Jane kept her eyes on Caroline as Caroline stood up. She had to hold herself back from gasping again when Caroline brushed two fingers to her jawline and gently tilted it upwards.

“Same pose, please.” Caroline’s voice was calm and cool on the surface. “Don’t move.”

Jane idly wondered what Caroline will do with these photos. It seemed arrogant to presume that Caroline would use it for one of her future photography classes or exhibits. But she entertained the thought, for a moment. And she had to suppress a shudder when she thought of strangers looking at photos of her and seeing her the way Caroline saw her.

No, this was just for them.

“You can put your arms down, Jane,” Caroline said without looking up from her LCD. “I have one more pose, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s fine.”

Caroline nodded and crouched towards her. Under Caroline’s instructions, Jane propped one elbow over the arm she had crossed over her chest. Then she pressed her chin into her palm, staring eye-level at Caroline.

Caroline’s eyes flitted over Jane in the speed of lightning—from her hair and her face to her shirt and her arms. She was tousling strands of Jane’s blunt hair this way and that, until it was brushing against Jane’s upturned palm and lips. When Caroline was satisfied, she leaned back on her heels, a thoughtful expression on her face. 

“I have a favor to ask,” Caroline said abruptly. “And you can feel free to say no.”

Jane smiled, her chin still propped up by her hand. “Go on.”

Caroline licked her lips. “May I kiss you?”

Jane bit the inside of her lip to keep her smile from widening. “Is this for the photo or for you?”

Caroline laughed at that. “Both, I guess.”

Jane let her smile burst free before she broke the pose and reached out for Caroline.

The kiss was like a dance they knew by heart. They knew where to turn their heads the moment before their lips met, a smooth progression of hands cradling each other’s jaw and cheek. Through it all, Jane avidly watched the blush across Caroline’s cheeks and freckles, the way Caroline’s lashes fluttered as she closed her eyes.

It was just a gentle press, at first. And sometimes that was all it ever came to. But Jane felt a hunger in all the hollow parts of her and she was sure Caroline felt it too. Jane found herself closing her eyes, too, when their kisses became more biting. She wanted to bottle the taste of Caroline on her tongue.

It was a smooth progression, except Jane’s mind fogged over the steps where her dress shirt slipped past her shoulder and Caroline started dotting kisses over her chest. She was digging new scratches on Caroline’s back under her top, her legs wrapped tightly around Caroline’s waist. 

When Caroline pulled away, but not too far since Jane still had her limbs around Caroline, she was breathing roughly. Her eyes were bright and glassy, her bun disheveled from where Jane had run her fingers through it. Then she swallowed and thumbed the top of Jane’s cheekbone gently.

“Let me take this last photo of you, please,” Caroline requested, her voice uneven.

She nodded and pulled her dress shirt back over her shoulders. Jane had just positioned herself into the original pose when Caroline, without preamble, took the shot, placed her camera on the floor, then tackled Jane to the bed. 

Jane laughed breathlessly as her head landed on the mattress. She placed a hand over where Caroline wrapped an arm around Jane’s waist. “After all that, you just take one shot?”

Caroline kissed Jane’s temple. “I only needed the one,” she admitted. She traced the lines of Jane’s face with a finger. “I wanted that fire in your expression. And you… you burned brighter than the sun.”

Which was a hilarious comparison, Jane thought as she stared at Caroline’s undone hair, the way it fanned out like spilled gold on the cream sheets, the way her bright eyes and beaming smile lit up the entire room effortlessly. Caroline was still smiling when Jane leaned over to kiss her.

And then they were back to where they stopped, as if the dance had been in progress all along. Caroline’s hand on her bare waist felt like a brand, and it anchored Jane to the present even as they devoured each other with lips, tongues, and teeth. In between each touch, Jane had shrugged off her flimsy dress shirt and pulled down her underwear while Caroline had shucked off her own clothes.

Jane felt like an open nerve when Caroline slid down against her, all her secret and soft parts exposed. Jane stared up at her, feeling naked from how Caroline was looking at her rather than from the reality of their bare skin touching, slick with sweat and hot from contact. She was probably scratching new marks on Caroline’s hips from where she was digging her nails, but Jane couldn’t care less at this moment. 

Caroline didn’t seem to care either, completely focused as she was on sucking wet open-mouthed kisses on Jane’s jaw and neck. Jane was starting to unravel as Caroline circled the pad of her thumb on the underside of Jane’s breast while she rolled her hips against Jane in a slow back and forth. Jane was biting her lower lip, but every once in a while a gasp would escape her when Caroline would kiss or touch a particularly sensitive spot, like the curve of her collarbone, the top of her breast, or the point of her hip bone. 

Caroline stripped her raw with the disarming way she knew Jane, in slow and gentle touches, and Jane let her because Caroline had long set up camp just past the walls of all her defenses anyway.

Jane was breathing more loudly now, panting wetly against Caroline’s jaw as Caroline ground down more heavily against her. She felt like she was being stretched taut into a million different directions, unable to keep herself and her reactions in check and in control. 

“Caroline.” It was a breathless gasp let out unthinkingly. She wanted to tell Caroline how beautiful she was too, but the words were weighed down with everything else she wanted to say.

Then Caroline looked at her. And Jane saw all her words glittering in Caroline’s dark eyes. “I’m here, Jane, it’s okay,” she whispered, her lips moving against Jane’s slack mouth, her palm pressing down between Jane’s thighs. “Let go, baby.” 

At the words, at the touch, Jane flew into a million pieces. Dimly, she felt herself shaking against Caroline. Through it all, Caroline kissed her, a chaste press on her forehead, her closed eyelids, her nose, her lips. She had an arm wrapped around Jane’s waist, as if to anchor her there, and she had slid her hand back up to Jane’s chest, her long fingers spread like she was keeping Jane’s heart from thudding out of her ribcage. 

“I have you, Jane, it’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” It was a litany of soothing words whispered into her temple. And it was only then Jane realized that she was half-gasping, half-sobbing. She tucked her nose into Caroline’s neck and wrapped her arms and legs around Caroline, trusting Caroline to hold her together.

When Jane got a semblance of control back, she lifted her head and nuzzled against Caroline’s flushed cheek. “You take such good care of me,” she murmured, before sliding down over Caroline’s body.

Caroline wrapped a hand around Jane’s wrist and stopped her. “You don’t have to, Jane,” she said in a low voice. “This isn’t quid pro quo.”

“I know,” Jane said, keeping her eyes on Caroline as she spoke. “But I want this, Caro.”

Caroline’s hold on her went loose enough for Jane to bend down and kiss her way down to Caroline’s navel, to the soft curls below. When Caroline’s grip went completely slack, Jane took hold of Caroline’s inner thighs and spread her apart. Until Jane could taste Caroline’s secret and soft parts too.

There was none of the gentleness from earlier in Caroline’s touch now. Her hands were tugging and pulling on Jane’s hair, her thighs boxing Jane in even as she pushed her pelvis up to Jane and offered more of herself.

It was okay. Jane wanted it all, and she had no gentleness in her either. She turned her head and sucked a biting kiss into the soft skin of Caroline’s inner thigh. She stared at the wet, blooming red mark before she rested her cheek there, on that hot red mark. Then, while watching Caroline’s glassy expression from where she lay, Jane slid a finger into her slick center.

_ Jane, Jane, Jane. _ From Caroline’s lips, her name sounded like a prayer, like a cry, like a revelation. And Jane had to close her eyes, while Caroline fell apart under her mouth and hands.

“Jane,” Caroline gasped again, pulling Jane up by her wrists. “Come here, baby.”

And even though Jane’s face was smeared with spit and slick, Caroline took her in her arms and licked her way inside Jane’s mouth. Caroline’s breath was still uneven when she pulled away, tucking Jane’s hair behind her ear. “I love the way you touch me,” Caroline whispered, her hand moving in circles on Jane’s back. “But god, does it terrify me sometimes.”

“What does?” Jane asks quietly, her head tucked against Caroline’s shoulder.

“The way you can take me apart so easily.”

Jane swallowed. “You can trust me to hold you until everything is back together.” Because she trusted Caroline to do the same for her.

Caroline laughed. “I do. Jane, I do.”

They were quiet for a while, their limbs tangled together as they lay in bed, soaking in the warmth of each other and the warmth of the sun. In a minute, Jane would get up and take a washcloth from the bathroom for cleanup. In a minute, Caroline would put her clothes back on and most likely continue working on her painting while Jane worked at her desk.

But for now, Jane closed her eyes and listened to the rhythm of Caroline’s breath, the sunlight a soft glow even from the back of her lids.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. There was an [ Attempt](https://twitter.com/celestexists/status/1161193690913636352) in drawing Jane’s floor plan haha.
> 
> 2\. Caroline’s [ graphic novel](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18465566-this-one-summer), which May actually recommended to me! I feel Caro would enjoy it, it's a very atmospheric coming-of-age YA graphic novel <333
> 
> 3\. Inspiration for Caro’s [Oyster House photo](http://www.rwimages.com/-/galleries/massachusetts/boston-black-and-white-photos-framed-prints/-/medias/0dfb800a-eaa1-11e3-abcc-329e81129ea7-cobble-stone-street-oyster-house-boston-black-and-white) and [public library photo](http://www.rwimages.com/-/galleries/massachusetts/boston-black-and-white-photos-framed-prints/-/medias/b1b93c26-ea9e-11e3-8f10-329e81129ea7-boston-public-library-black-and-white). None of the photos are mine.
> 
> 4\. [Weekend brunch menu at Cafe Luna](http://www.cafeluna-centralsq.com/weekend-brunch). Let me know if the food tastes as good as it looks! lol.
> 
> 5\. Based on my meager research, Selene is the Greek goddess of the moon, while Xihe is the Chinese goddess of the sun.
> 
> 6\. Pegs for Jane's [first](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cd/10/f9/cd10f93d2a0729492991efa7b634e0af.jpg), [second](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/53/51/04/535104a86e6f97e21422ef0faa26cad3.jpg), [third](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/0b/73/b8/0b73b8d23f18bae2c0d1ea1feea585ac.jpg), and [fourth](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/6a/59/48/6a5948c1e31b3922873ce9bb54cfe2f6.jpg) poses. None of the photos are mine.
> 
> 7\. If you feel inclined to donate to Richard Siken’s Recovery Fundraising Campaign, you may do so [here](https://www.gofundme.com/f/sikenstrokerecovery)!
> 
> eta: I've uploaded the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/18jEK2MJTu3Nljtg2J70Qx?si=tOUVUkWXSPGPb4_Ws850zg) online, in case anyone is interested!


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